The Beast That Is My Heart
by Pogiforce-14
Summary: After another crushing defeat, Metal Sonic finally realizes that what he is isn't what he has to be. short, one shot.


The Beast That Is My Heart

I trudge through the forest, battered and worn. I can't believe that flesh and blood copy managed to beat me. Again. What's so special about flesh and blood? I am Metal Sonic. I am superior and more advanced than the original. How I keep losing is beyond my processors. Every strategy, every method, every decision turns up empty. Now I feel I've become obsolete.

I see a cliff in front of me, a cliff I know I used to be able to jump with ease. Now, with creaking joints and a faded blue dented exterior, I find myself struggling to climb the cliff face as I try to return to my workshop. To fix my malfunctions. Again. It feels like hours before I reach the top. My frustrations with my own incompetence only fuel my desires to destroy Sonic. He'll pay for doing this to me. He'll pay.

I rest for a moment while coolant pumps through me. I must have exerted myself too much climbing the cliff. The trees provide a cooling shade that protects me from the violent rays of the sun. My metal body would heat fast, and the coolant wouldn't be of much use to me. I remember my last battle with Sonic as I lay under the trees.

It was planned so perfectly. I had locked Doctor Eggman in a cell on his flying fortress. I had kidnapped the Chao and the frog so I could decipher the Chaos data and incorporate it into my system. I used a number of deceptions to point Rouge towards the Shadow cloning lab, knowing that Shadow would seek out Eggman and in turn bring me the power of Chaos Control. And with a letter to Sonic about a supposed plan by Eggman, I knew my rival would be coming to me as well, allowing me my sweetest revenge. I had gathered all the data I had needed, and even as Sonic released Eggman and destroyed his fleet, I had transformed into a beast of ultimate power. I had wings. I could fly. The exhilaration of flight nearly overloaded my processors. But my plan was flawed. I had forgotten about the Chaos Emeralds, and Sonic used their power to destroy my perfect form and render me as I currently am. I missed flying.

My body finally cooled, I continue the track to my workshop hidden in the woods. The workshop used to be just an old abandoned shed, but after my first defeat it became my base for rebuilding myself and planning new means of removing Sonic. How pathetic. My knees are creaking, protesting against any further movement, but I have to get back to my base if I am to survive. If I stay so much as one night in my battered state the night time air would make me rust at an alarming pace. I must get myself fixed.

Although my superior vision had been damaged, I could see my base now and was relieved to see that no one had destroyed it or stolen any of my tools while I was gone. It is a fairly small building. Inside I have but a bench, a table with my tools and other materials on it, and a large piece of broken mirror leaning against the far wall. Now inside, I sit down on the bench. My elbows and knees screech loudly as I do and I almost have to force myself to sit. I grab a wrench from the table and start to loosen my knee joints. Freedom of movement is most important, and I knew I would have to replace my knee joints to achieve that. My shins and feet fall away from the rest of my body as the knee joints come loose, and I toss them over my shoulder out the window. They are useless. I will not be needing them anymore.

I search the desk for a new pair of knee joints. I know I have some, as I occasionally raid Eggman's robot bunkers for parts. I am, after all, one of his creations. I finally find a pair and begin to reattach my legs, working the wrench feverishly as my internal chronometer tells me that night will be arriving soon.

Next I take a device meant for removing dents off the table and place it against my torso. I use it to remove the dents in my body, making loud popping noises as the metal is forced back into place. It should probably hurt, but Eggman showed me mercy in building very few pain receptors into this body. That is one thing for which I am grateful for.

Finally I come to the most delicate part of my self repair. I push a hidden button in my torso that causes my chest cavity to open. Inside is a number of panels and wires, all surrounding an energy orb in the center which contained a small animal. I never paid much attention to the animal in previous self repairs, but this time I feel the need to examine the creature further. I find it ironic how all of Eggman's robots, creatures of such technological power, were powered by such small, flesh and blood organisms. My particular power source is a small bird with deep blue feathers. He appears to be in a deep sleep and I reach into the energy orb to caress his feathers. As I pet this creature within my core, I recall data that it was the creatures in the cores of Eggman's Robots that gave them their unique personalities. I begin to wonder if maybe all of us robots are merely the animal's consciousness within a metal shell. It would explain my affinity for flight if I am truly a bird, and not a robot.

Now that I think about it, being a bird instead of a robot would be no hardship. As an organism I wouldn't have to worry about rusting and my body would heal itself over time. The joys of flight would be mine once more and my hatred for Sonic would surely evaporate. As I continue to ponder the possibility, I now realize that perhaps I am indeed this small, blue bird inside myself. That my hatred for Sonic is born of being made in his likeness. That Eggman pulled me from the life that is truly mine and forced me to live as an Earth bound monster of metal. Is this bird truly me?

I look into the mirror across the room. The sun has started to set, but I can still see the small blue creature inside my chest cavity. It sits in such a place that it looks like I have a small, blue heart. It seemed fitting. Is not the heart known as where your soul is kept? And if this bird is indeed who I truly am, is it not the home of my soul?

I look at my hands, the metal, cold, lifeless hands. I have been living this way because I chose to. Because I wanted revenge. Perhaps it is time to let that go.

I reach inside myself and pull the small bird outside of the energy orb. Almost immediately I can feel my systems shut down, my legs no longer responding, and I barely have time to hold out my hand before my arms stop moving as well. I can feel every circuit shutting down, my eyes growing dim. But even as I feel my body dying, I can see the open window in front of me, and I spread my wings as I fly into the setting sun.


End file.
